


Voices

by Kayljay



Series: Club Babylon [2]
Category: Actor RPF, The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2002-02-27
Updated: 2002-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-05 10:04:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayljay/pseuds/Kayljay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Club Babylon 'Verse</p><p>For more info see part 1</p><p>Rating: Teen<br/>Tags: Not Standalone<br/>Alex talking to himself. There's a rat under my bed there's a little <strike>gray</strike> green man in my head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voices

Alex leaned over his glass of Stoli staring into it. As hard as it had been, he'd left Johnny with his son. He had to smile a little. Poor kid. If that wasn't the stereotypical accident, falling out of a tree and breaking his leg. He told Johnny he had things to do anyway. Which was true. He'd made two back-up copies of all his sensitive files and stored one copy in a safe deposit box at two different banks. His lawyer hadn't had time to see him, but put a codicil on the will, just in case, until the man had a chance to draw up the proper papers. Those two things alone gave him a little piece of mind.

He refused to think of the other looming issue. "Eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we must die," he said softly. "Or some bullshit like that." Where did his mind get this stuff?

He shrugged. It didn't matter. He sure as hell couldn't go home until his hands stopped shaking. _Like the alcohol was going to help?_ Going through those files was not a pleasant experience. He was just relieved to have it off his hard drive and didn't have to worry about it until he was six feet under--or at the end of the world.

He kept arguing with himself about the wisdom of telling Johnny. The only thing that was stopping him was Jack. If it wasn't for Johnny's son, he would tell his lover everything. But he didn't. And he didn't fool himself into thinking that the nightmares were going to go away either. How long would be be able to come up with excuses for them. How long would Johnny let it slide?

_Johnny doesn't need to let it slide, you're ready to roll over and tell him everything, son or no son._ said the nasty little voice inside his head that Alex had come to think of as his conscience's evil twin.

Yeah, he'd just sit Johnny down and say, 'excuse me, babe, but I thought you might like to know that the world's coming to an end in less than seven years. How? Oh, you know, invasion by aliens.'

Alex snorted. And the men in the white coats will bring the long sleeved jackets and put you into a padded truck.

_And wouldn't that be fun?_

Not really. He much preferred his finger and toenails to be pulled out, thank you very much.  
The next question would be: How do you know about this? If Johnny didn't outright disbelieve him.

He sighed.

He was so fucking tired of running on the wheel. Turning it over and over like compost. Only to come up with the same ugly mess time after time.

This was the reason he'd never let anyone get close. Too much guilt. Too many secrets that wanted to rise past his lips.

_Poor Alex, you're so bad off. An actor for a boyfriend, millions sitting in a bank in the Caymans. Yeah, it sucks to be you._

He looked up and shook his head at the sight of Dave holding the Stoli bottle. If you couldn't tell your bartender . . .

"Fill it up, Dave; have I got a story to tell you."

The evil voice cackled and shut up.

~~~


End file.
